The Unbearable Weight of Being Harry
by frayed1989
Summary: Post HPB. Inspired by a fan art. Ron POV. Harry's breaking, can Ron bring him out?


**The Unbearable Weight of Being Harry**

Everything had been going pretty good for us up until our fourth year. We were young, carefree, and happy. Sure, we had our scary adventures which most young wizards and witches wouldn't have experienced at all until they were much older. Harry had fought Voldemort twice and had stopped a mass murderer by the time he was thirteen. And even though we had been through a lot of things, we were still young, we were still happy. We were still innocent.

And then our fourth year came and it started out just like any other year. We didn't realize that it would be the year we would all have to grow up. We didn't realize that it really was a matter of life and death until that year. Up until then, we always knew that we would come out on top. We had had our close calls but we just knew nothing could stop us. Nothing could stop him. And then that fourth year, everything shattered. That fourth year, everything just fell apart.

I still don't really know to this day what happened to Harry and Cedric when they grabbed the cup and were transported to that cemetery near Tom Riddle's house. I don't know what Harry felt when he saw a bright green light hit Cedric and kill him instantly. I don't know how much fear consumed him when Voldemort was reborn. I don't know how he reacted to the vision of his parents telling him to be strong, or Cedric asking him to bring his body back to his father. The only thing I know is the mind numbing fear that I felt when I thought I had lost Harry forever.

That day, I realized that this was it. Every fear was becoming true. I realized that day that it was time to grow up. And Harry realized it too. When Harry came back, I remember everybody cheering around me. Everybody excited and thrilled, adrenaline running through everyone. They saw Harry and Cedric and the cup. Hogwarts had won. No body saw Harry crying. No body saw him clutching Cedric's motionless body. No body even realized he was dead until Dumbledore pried a broken Harry off of Cedric. I don't think I even realized Cedric was dead. I remember seeing Harry and seeing that he was alive and thinking that everything was alright. But I knew it wasn't it my gut. So did Hermione. So did Ginny. So did the teachers, so did the headmasters of the other schools. When they pried Cedric from Harry, everyone knew.

That year, everything fell apart. That year, Harry fell apart. And it only got worse. The next year Sirius died. And then the fallowing year, Dumbledore fallowed after him. And what was worse was that he was killed by someone he trusted with his whole soul.

After Dumbledore died, during our last year, Harry just shut himself up. He fell away and put up walls so no one could get in. Not Ginny. Not Hermione. Not even I could get in. His smiles became fewer until they were non-existent. His voice became softer until I didn't even think he could talk anymore. His body became sicklier until it looked like death was looming over him everyday. And everyday, he'd go outside and lay under the same tree in the same part of the forbidden forest. I use to steal his cloak and fallow him. He would lie under that tree four hours on end. Finally one day, I fallowed him without the cloak.

He was lying underneath the tree, his eyes closed, his long shaggy hair splayed out so that it looked like a dark halo. He was still dangerously skinny, so skinny that every time he breathed and his stomach went down on each exhale, I could see his ribs poking prominently from underneath his shirt. I stood next to him for a few seconds, seemingly content to just stare at him before I laid down next to him. I knew he was aware of my presence but as I lied next to him he mad no move to confirm it. I then turned onto my side, propping my head up with my hand as I looked at him. He looked peaceful then, the most peaceful I had seen him in ages.

"Are you giving up on me?" The question came unchecked from my lips, just blurted. A sigh. His eyes opened. They were full with unshed tears. I brushed some stray strands of hair away from his face with my free hand.

"I'm not giving up, Ron." His voice cracked. It was horse from him not using it in months, possibly a year. I couldn't remember the last time I heard him utter a word.

"Yes you are. You don't have to lie to me, Harry. I can take it." Harry looked away, why I'm not really sure. My fingers were tracing the freckles on his arm, unintentional, just wondering. "I wish you'd talk to me."

"I am talking to you." A whisper. It hurts him. I can tell in the way his adam's apple bobs up and down. He's trying not to cry. His lower lip is quivering. I don't understand why he wants to shut me out. I don't understand why he doesn't want to tell me what's wrong. I don't understand why he won't let me comfort him.

"No you're not. Words are coming out but you're not there Harry. Where did you go? Why won't you let me go with you?" I'm almost pleading now. There's a whine in my voice. I don't want to sound like it but there it is.

"You don't want to come with me," he whispers. He still doesn't understand. Where ever he goes, I have to go. He doesn't understand that he completes me. That without him, I'm empty. That without him, my life means nothing. He doesn't understand that he's my everything, that I'd do everything and anything to be with him. I rest my head on the ground and scoot closer to him so that his back his spooned up against my chest. I wrap my arm around his waist and hold him to me. If I let him go, I think I might loose him forever.

"Yes I do. Always. Forever." I can feel him trembling against me. His head is pillowed against my other arm. I can feel the tears now. I know he's crying. He's just not letting himself make sound. It hurts him. I hold him closer, tighter. "Where ever you go, I go. I'll never leave you Harry. Never."

That day, he wept until he finally had worn himself out and had fallen asleep while we lied beneath that great tree. It was peaceful that day. A nice cool breeze swept through. No animals, centaurs, or spiders came near us. It was just us, the trees, and the unbearable weight of being Harry finally being lifted from his shoulders. At least some of it, if only for a short while.

**Fin**


End file.
